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the home book of verse-1-第81章

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Who held the earth in fee;

For us were flung the portals

Of fame and victory。

The days were bright and breezy;

And gay our banners flew;

And every peak was easy

To scale at twenty…two。



And thus we spent our gay time

As having much to spend;

Swift; swift; that pretty playtime

Flew by and had its end。

And lo! without a warning

I woke; as others do;

One fine mid…winter morning;

A man of forty…two。



And now I see how vainly

Is youth with ardor fired;

How fondly; how insanely

I formerly aspired。

A boy may still detest age;

But as for me I know;

A man has reached his best age

At forty…two or so。



For youth it is the season

Of restlessness and strife;

Of passion and unreason;

And ignorance of life。

Since; though his cheeks have roses;

No boy can understand

That everything he knows is

A graft at second hand。



But we have toiled and wandered

With weary feet and numb;

Have doubted; sifted; pondered; …

How else should knowledge come?

Have seen too late for heeding;

Our hopes go out in tears;

Lost in the dim receding;

Irrevocable years。



Yet; though with busy fingers

No more we wreathe the flowers;

An airy perfume lingers;

A brightness still is ours。

And though no rose our cheeks have;

The sky still shines as blue;

And still the distant peaks have

The glow of twenty…two。



Rudolph Chambers Lehmann '1856…1929' 





TO CRITICS



When I was seventeen I heard

From each censorious tongue;

〃I'd not do that if I were you;

You see you're rather young。〃



Now that I number forty years;

I'm quite as often told

Of this or that I shouldn't do

Because I'm quite too old。



O carping world!  If there's an age

Where youth and manhood keep

An equal poise; alas!  I must

Have passed it in my sleep。



Walter Learned '1847…1915'





THE RAINBOW



My heart leaps up when I behold

A rainbow in the sky:

So was it when my life began;

So is it now I am a man;

So be it when I shall grow old;

Or let me die!

The Child is father of the Man;

And I could wish my days to be

Bound each to each by natural piety。



William Wordsworth '1770…1850'





LEAVETAKING



Pass; thou wild light;

Wild light on peaks that so

Grieve to let go

The day。

Lovely thy tarrying; lovely too is night:

Pass thou away。



Pass; thou wild heart;

Wild heart of youth that still

Hast half a will

To stay。

I grow too old a comrade; let us part:

Pass thou away。



William Watson '1858…1935'





EQUINOCTIAL



The sun of life has crossed the line;

The summer…shine of lengthened light

Faded and failed; till; where I stand;

'Tis equal day and equal night。



One after one; as dwindling hours;

Youth's glowing hopes have dropped away;

And soon may barely leave the gleam

That coldly scores a winter's day。



I am not young; I am not old;

The flush of morn; the sunset calm;

Paling and deepening; each to each;

Meet midway with a solemn charm。



One side I see the summer fields;

Not yet disrobed of all their green;

While westerly; along the hills;

Flame the first tints of frosty sheen。



Ah; middle…point; where cloud and storm

Make battle…ground of this my life!

Where; even…matched; the night and day

Wage round me their September strife!



I bow me to the threatening gale:

I know when that is overpast;

Among the peaceful harvest days;

An Indian Summer comes at last!



Adeline D。 T。 Whitney '1824…1906'





〃BEFORE THE BEGINNING OF YEARS〃

From 〃Atalanta in Calydon〃



Before the beginning of years;

There came to the making of man

Time; with a gift of tears;

Grief; with a glass that ran;

Pleasure; with pain for leaven;

Summer; with flowers that fell;

Remembrance; fallen from heaven;

And madness; risen from hell;

Strength; without hands to smite;

Love; that endures for a breath;

Night; the shadow of light;

And life; the shadow of death。



And the high gods took in hand

Fire; and the falling of tears;

And a measure of sliding sand

From under the feet of the years;

And froth and drift of the sea;

And dust of the laboring earth;

And bodies of things to be

In the houses of death and of birth;

And wrought with weeping and laughter;

And fashioned with loathing and love;

With life before and after;

And death beneath and above;

For a day and a night and a morrow;

That his strength might endure for a span;

With travail and heavy sorrow;

The holy Spirit of man。



From the winds of the north and the south

They gathered as unto strife;

They breathed upon his mouth;

They filled his body with life;

Eyesight and speech they wrought

For the veils of the soul therein;

A time for labor and thought;

A time to serve and to sin;

They gave him light in his ways;

And love; and a space for delight;

And beauty and length of days;

And night; and sleep in the night。

His speech is a burning fire;

With his lips he travaileth;

In his heart is a blind desire;

In his eyes foreknowledge of death;

He weaves; and is clothed with derision

Sows; and he shall not reap;

His life is a watch or a vision

Between a sleep and a sleep。



Algernon Charles Swinburne '1837…1909'





MAN



Weighing the steadfastness and state

Of some mean things which here below reside;

Where birds; like watchful clocks; the noiseless date

And intercourse of times divide。

Where bees at night get home and hive; and flowers;

Early as well as late;

Rise with the sun; and set in the same bowers;



I would; said I; my God would give

The staidness of these things to man! for these

To His divine appointments ever cleave;

And no new business breaks their peace;

The birds nor sow nor reap; yet sup and dine;

The flowers without clothes live;

Yet Solomon was never dressed so fine。



Man hath still either toys; or care;

He hath no root; nor to one place is tied;

But ever restless and irregular

About this earth doth run and ride;

He knows he hath a home; but scarce knows where;

He says it is so far;

That he hath quite forgot how to go there。



He knocks at all doors; strays and roams;

Nay; hath not so much wit as some stones have;

Which in the darkest nights point to their homes

By some hid sense their Maker gave;

Man is the shuttle; to whose winding quest

And passage through these looms

God ordered motion; but ordained no rest。



Henry Vaughan '1622…1695'





THE PULLEY



When God at first made Man;

Having a glass of blessings standing by …

Let us (said He) pour on him all we can;

Let the world's riches; which dispersed lie;

Contract into a span。



So strength first made a way;

Then beauty flowed; then wisdom; honor; pleasure:

When almost all was out; God made a stay;

Perceiving that; alone of all His treasure;

Rest in the bottom lay。



For if I should (said He)

Bestow this jewel also on My creatur
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